


Strung Out

by projectHYPOCRISY



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Big Gay Love Story, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Inspired by Music, M/M, Not a Love Story, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7507747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/projectHYPOCRISY/pseuds/projectHYPOCRISY
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Best friends? Or maybe confused? Early Sephesis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strung Out

Best friends.

Genesis said they were “best friends” when Sephiroth had prompted for a description of their relationship. Sephiroth couldn’t remember why he had asked, only that he had felt this persisting anxiety. He couldn’t understand why Genesis nor Angeal had this effect on him. So cool, his charm all consuming; like they wanted him to be. But when it came to the Banora duo, a dread, a certain unease filled him.

He was in the prime of his career when he first met Genesis. Sephiroth seemed to conquer every aspect of his career with ease. He was told to wear this, at such event and speak in such a manner. To watch himself on the screen was unsettling, to say the least. But he was dominating his market and setting Shin-Ra at the very top of the food chain. He positioned them at the top for many years to come, unless he were to tear them down himself -it was tempting to think how easy he could tear them down just as easily as he built them up.

Being the poster boy brought its generous perks. He would never have seen the world beyond the lab had it not been for Shin-Ra’s persistence in having him sent to these gaudy events. But it did bring its cult-like fandom. He isolated himself to avoid the gropes of strange people. The awkwardness of their touch and their fake smiles. To be honest, the silence left him wanting. He would stand aloof, accepting the faint flash of a smile and tiny whispers at his ears. But it was Genesis that approached him with a reverent gaze and a posture that demanded a fight.

The then barely eighteen-year-old was strong looking and unabashedly confrontational. He approached Sephiroth, introduced himself and declared that the Great General would know of him soon enough. Genesis needed to make a name for himself if he were to survive in the grand and bland Midgardian landscape. Sephiroth saw the crave for attention but invited it.

It was unsettling how Genesis grew on him so quickly. Perhaps it was the mere-exposure effect. Genesis had a flare which seemed to come natural, and a taste for the extravagant. He had his own flock as he climbed up the ranks. He was magnetic and invited the strangers into his personal space, which onlookers seemed to adore.

Sephiroth was intrigued by the young Second early on. He would watch Genesis, surrounded by young Thirds and a handful of secretaries at the bar. They would laugh, he would then entertain them with a pleasant smile. Sephiroth knew that Genesis was watching him in the corner of his eye. Genesis toasted to a night still young –they laughed. In the darkly lit room, Sephiroth could see a flutter of eyelashes as Genesis went to wink at him. Sephiroth diverted his gaze impulsively.

There seemed to be no escape. Genesis seemed to bump into him at opportune moments: when Sephiroth’s mood was mild and he was willing to entertain the fiery redhead. Genesis was passionate and cared little for those that stood before him, even if it were the great General Sephiroth. Sephiroth continued to entertain him as Genesis seemed to be the only one he could truly tolerate, which was a riot in itself. Genesis and Sephiroth shared nothing except for perhaps for their low-key contempt for their current state of affairs.

Genesis frequented bars to escape the imminent existential crisis. Sephiroth studied him. Genesis seemed to enjoy himself and for a brief moment forgot about himself but Sephiroth knew better; the man was only conning himself. There was no running, there was no hiding.

Genesis would at times show up to Sephiroth’s apartment in a drunken stupor. He would babble and Sephiroth was forced to listen, asking himself how Genesis found his apartment to begin with. Genesis’s mouth seemed to run off despite himself and he revealed pieces of himself that no other human had ever revealed to Sephiroth before. Sephiroth knew of Genesis’s upbringing and of how he respected but hated the General. Sephiroth admired that; no one was truly honest with him before. Only pandering; always pandering.

They would pass each other on the SOLDIER floor, barely acknowledging each other but knowing full well something strange was transpiring. Sephiroth had found a kindred spirit: angry but docile, tamed by their own will to not disturb the status quo for whatever reason, known or unknown.

Genesis would from time to time appear at his doorstep, hand still clasped to a bottle of Banora wine and a fist full of pills. He assured that they had little effect on him but he continued to use for his own amusement, to see how far he could test the limits of Shin-Ra science. Sephiroth tried it all. Pills, liquids, powdered substances, to no avail; none of them had a positive, soothing nor negative effect. So he just watched Genesis and listened as he divulged further.

Somewhere in the midst of all the confusion, Genesis became a staple in the General’s life. They found comfort in each other’s presence. Sephiroth looked forward to their chance encounters, in his own way. Even the late night impromptu drunken splurges. He would welcome them, just for a moment with the redhead. The more time they spent together, the more he realized they were cut from the same cloth and yet could not have been more different. Sephiroth appreciated that.

Their relationship continued to surprise him, however. He distinctly remembered the first time Genesis leaned in to touch him, his hand brushing gently across his jaw. Sephiroth did not flinch but rather studied the look of triumph on Genesis’s face. And then the first time he drunkenly stumbled onto his shoulder, kissing his neck when Sephiroth was certain that it was meant for his lips. Cool and still wet from the alcohol. Genesis was always forward, pushing the ever-expanding boundaries Sephiroth seemed to have. He allowed it, even enjoyed it.

“What are you doing?” Sephiroth questioned, as Genesis leaned again.

“You can tell me to stop if you want,” Genesis replied. “But you know you won’t.” He laughed.

It was true, he didn’t, allowing Genesis to line his jaw with smooth caresses.

“What are you doing?” Sephiroth asked again, this time prompting Genesis to stop.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you here?”

“Because I want to.” Genesis collapsed back into the couch, eyes skyward, hands fumbling for a pill. “Why else would I be here?”

Sephiroth laughed at the sentiment. People always had an ulterior motive, not to his benefit, he learned early in life. Genesis could be no different, he worried. But he enjoyed his company which could not be said for many others. He was content when around the redhead.

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

“I don’t want anything,” Genesis chuckled. “I just thought we were friends.”

“Friends,” Sephiroth repeated.

“I guess as close to best friends as we could get.”  

Best friends? Sephiroth smiled at the idea although it came from the most unlikely of sources.


End file.
